Chapter 31: The Forgotten City (２)

****

Twenty-four hours had passed since the eclipse began.

This is the Foundation’s Intelligence Division control room. We’d been gathered here on emergency alert because of the eclipse day. But so far, nothing had happened.

One wall of the Intelligence Division control room was covered entirely by screens. The people seated in the room were all staring at the massive display.

“Are you sure there’s nothing unusual?”

“Well, nothing that looks like a major anomaly so far. But over the past 24 hours, more than 700 missing person reports have been filed with the police…”

How is that not something unusual?

“That does count as something unusual. Have you requested cooperation from government police or related agencies?”

“Dr. Geum. There’s a phenomenon on the map here where roads are cutting off strangely.”

Administrator Lee looked up at me.

“Really? Was it always like that?”

“We’re not sure yet either. A road runs perfectly fine around here, then just cuts off for no reason… Should we send someone to the site? What do you think is the best course of action?”

Roads cutting off? Something about that sounds wrong, but I can’t remember what.

I furrowed my brow.

“Couldn’t it just be the end of the road? Or maybe it was cut off due to an accident.”

“At the point where the road ends here, it would feel natural for there to be a small town or city, but I can’t figure out why there’s nothing there.”

I stared at the map on the screen. Between the two severed roads, there was definitely nothing.

“The road cuts off here, then reconnects further ahead. There’s nothing in between. Three roads that end in empty lots are converging at this location.”

Something’s suspicious. There’s no way roads were built like that. There must be somewhere the roads were heading toward.

“Did you notice this today?”

“Yes.”

That can’t be right.

“And this never happened before?”

Administrator Lee furrowed her brow.

My head feels foggy. This is a situation where I should be realizing something, so why can’t I think of anything? There must be a conclusion I can draw from the information given so far, but I can’t figure out what it is.

No, that’s not it. I definitely reached a conclusion, but I can’t express it in words or articulate it.

Why?

I crossed my arms and stared at the screen.

There’s a problem here that needs solving, but I don’t know how to explain it. I can’t even put into words what the problem is.

“Can you zoom in on the map?”

The Intelligence Division staff brought up the map on the screen.

“Officer. On the map over there, what color do you see at the strange part where the road cuts off?”

“Well, green… I think?”

“…”

“Not green—”

There’s no color.

How can a city have no color?

That doesn’t make sense. Wait, what has no color? What was I just thinking?

It’s confusing.

I feel like I almost know something.

“Dr. Geum. Why are you here?”

I blinked. I can’t remember.

“I think I was looking at the map… And what are you doing here, Doctor?”

Everyone in the Intelligence Division lab blinked. What were we all doing here?

I let out a sigh. I can’t remember what’s going on, but I know what needs to be done.

“Ah… It’s cognitive contamination. Activate the Lethe Protocol, and call the Cognitive Department.”

****

The Cognitive Department staff arrived within three minutes.

“Would you like some gum?”

“Oh, sure.”

I popped the gum the Cognitive Department staffer handed me into my mouth without much thought. This tastes strange.

“I apologize for the lie, Chief Researcher. It was necessary to break through the cognitive contamination that has everyone in this room under its influence. What I just gave you is gum containing LSD.”

“Oh dear.”

I blinked again, and the edges of my vision began to melt into a kaleidoscope of colors. I had heard about this before.

The Foundation sometimes uses certain narcotics to counter cognitive contamination, apparently.

GHB erases memories to remove cognitohazards, and LSD removes the effects of anomalous forgetting, making the unseen visible.

I looked at the map again.

Something felt wrong. The place where three roads had appeared severed was now covered in clouds. Beneath the clouds, the faint shape of a city was visible.

The city’s name was displayed on the screen. It had probably been displayed before too—I just hadn’t been able to recognize it due to the nature of the cognitohazard.

Yulje-myeon[1], in the eastern part of Gangwon Province.

This isn’t simply making people forget or preventing them from seeing—the cognitohazard appears to be actively erasing the very concept itself.

Only by adjusting perception with psychotropic drugs can one even register information about that city.

That’s absurd. What kind of anomaly could erase an entire city from maps, memories, and people’s perceptions alike?

“Indeed. It seems something has covered an entire city in clouds and created cognitive contamination that prevents anyone from perceiving information about it.”

“…”

Administrator Lee rose from her seat.

“What should we do?”

We don’t know what’s happening yet, but by scale alone, this situation is comparable to war.

“I’ll go contact headquarters immediately. The rest of you, prepare for deployment.”

I ran toward the Director’s Office.

****

Whoever the hell they are—someone has erased a small city not just from the map, but from people’s memories as well.

I sat down in the Director’s chair. This is an urgent situation, and there’s no one watching, so it should be fine, right? It’s not like it’s some throne.

I hastily picked up the phone in the Director’s Office. No time to even take a breath.

Click.

Connected.

“Hello, is this Foundation Headquarters?”

“Yes, it is. Dr. Geum, what’s the matter?”

“I just confirmed that something has swallowed an entire city whole.”

“You must have been very worried.”

Is this person insane?

“Due to the cognitohazard, records and surveillance of the city are also difficult to perceive. We need headquarters support right now.”

“Please hold.”

About three minutes of silence followed on the other end of the line, but the connection wasn’t cut.

“Dr. Geum. Are you still there?”

“Yes. Standing by.”

“The Overseer closest to your current location, Facility 82, is Overseer Nine. Given the gravity of the situation, Overseer Nine has stated they will personally command on-site.”

“Wait, who is this Overseer?”

“They’re departing from Jeju Island now. They’ll arrive within 15 minutes, and once the Overseer enters the facility, you’ll need to raise the facility’s security level.”

Fifteen minutes from Jeju Island?

How the hell do you get from Jeju to Seoul in 15 minutes? Are they riding a missile?

“Understood. Hold on, then—”

“Prepare Helipad 1.”

“Helipad? What are they arriving in—”

Click.

Unbelievable. That son of a bitch.

The line to headquarters cut off abruptly. Every time I call Foundation HQ, I think the same thing—I have no idea what the hell these people are.

****

Sirens were echoing through the facility’s walls.

[Lockdown Protocol initiated.]

[This is not a drill.]

[An Overseer is coming to this facility. All personnel, move to your designated positions and stand by until the lockdown is lifted.]

This is urgent.

I stepped out of the room and collided with Nanami, who was coming through the Director’s Office door. She looked deeply confused.

“What’s going on?”

“The Overseer is coming in person.”

“What the—when? Why is the lockdown starting long before they even arrive?”

Nanami stared into my eyes, but I shook my head. I’m sorry, Nanami. Asking me won’t get you any answers.

“They said they’d be here within 15 minutes.”

“Put on your formal wear and come with me. We’re going to receive them. Tell the other staff to stay hidden.”

“Have you ever seen the Overseer before, Nanami?”

“Nope. See you at Helipad 1.”

Nanami moved off to get ready.

****

They said the Overseer had landed at Helipad 1. There was no way a helicopter could make it from Jeju Island in under 15 minutes—strange business.

Fifteen minutes was barely enough time for a cruise missile to arrive. How on earth did they get here?

“Oh, I see it.”

“Really?”

I raised my head toward the sky.

A single Foundation fighter jet, triangular in shape, was diving sharply over the facility. I grabbed the hem of my coat against the fierce wind.

A moment later.

The Foundation’s fighter jet touched down vertically on Pad 1 with a deafening roar.

Overtech. I’d never heard of a fighter capable of that existing in reality.

The aircraft’s rear door opened, and Foundation soldiers disembarked in perfect unison. The rifles they carried were ones I’d never seen before. Not conventional firearms.

At the center of the formation stood a man in a black suit, carrying a single square briefcase.

The sound of dress shoes echoed across the helipad.

“Where might Director Geum be?”

—

Translator’s Notes
[1] Yulje-myeon — -myeon is a rural township-level administrative unit.